


I Can't Exactly Run Away From My Problems (Yes I Can)

by autumntoash



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Affection, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Found Family, Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit's Father (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit's Mother (Video Blogging RPF), No Lesbians Die, Platonic Cuddling, Running Away, Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit Angst, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), and i thought it was funny, im sorry i just saw that while typing the no beta, no beta we die like autumns planned plot, plot twisted because of spite, surprise! george
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumntoash/pseuds/autumntoash
Summary: Tired of being abandoned by his parents and being forced to do everything in the house while his parents fuck off somewhere in the world, beyond his reaches, Tommy runs away from home.A family is found.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 29
Kudos: 341





	1. Last night, I took a hell of a chance

**Author's Note:**

> \- i don't really know how trains work, we don't really have them in my place of living  
> \- i don't live in britain  
> \- i don't know much about medical illnessess  
> \- i'm also not someone from a neglectful household
> 
> excuse any mistakes please :)
> 
> chapter titles come from various lyrics from Bear Ghost's album "Your Parents Are Only Marginally Disappointed in Your Musical Taste"

“Tommy, you need to pay this bill.”

He didn’t quite understand why everything was left to him. He might have been a famous streamer, who makes a lot of money, but he was still a kid. He was 16, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was a child. He supposes it’s because he was always taunted with that. It might be why he’s deciding to run now, of all times. His parents were never home, and always left him to do the entire process of homeowning while they traveled the world, not interested in taking care of their only child. They’d started to leave him alone at age 8, and it was when he was hungry, too little to reach the counter, when he learned how to survive

He never lived, he only survived. It was the only thing he knew how to do. Sure, he had friends and meetups and internet blasts, but every time he had to make up that he asked his parents, when in reality, he hadn’t seen them since last month. He knew somewhere in his head, that this wasn’t right, but he found himself too tired to care.

It was after a bad argument with his parents, where he asked for them to stay and actually try and be a family again, when he decided to leave. They told him that they were doing important things, but Tommy knew that they didn’t want him. They had already practically disowned him.

If they didn’t want him? Fine. He’ll leave.

He grabbed an empty large bag, and started filling it with supplies. A charger, clothes, his wallet (which he slid into his pocket), snacks, a few random objects, medicine, his laptop and its charger, and a few extra items, like a pillow. He grabbed a large suitcase and carefully began to deconstruct his PC setup, knowing that if the repo people came to the house, they’d take his PC, and he couldn’t have that. He took toiletries, and the jar of money he had had for years, and fit that into his bag. He zipped up his bag, and started to carefully set his PC into his suitcase, when his phone dinged. He fished it out, ready to yell at whoever interrupted him, when he saw the notification. He paled.

**Tubbo:** tomym are you stil good fr the stream tonight?? :D

_ Crap. _ He had forgotten he had a stream, one with SBI, Tubbo, Ranboo, and a few others. Fortunately, he had read receipts turned off, so Tubbo might assume he was busy. He turned off his phone, because he didn’t want to get distracted. He finished packing his PC away, and zipped up the suitcase. He grabbed a sweater, his Schlatt & Co. one, and a jacket Wilbur had once gifted to him. He grabbed a hat he had laying around, and dragged the two things with his belongings down the stairs. 

He went around the house turning everything off, and unplugging all of the electricity-powered things, and then grabbed his laptop and began the process of disconnecting his bank account, when something else came in the way. 

His parents had connected their bank account to his, and were using  _ his _ money. What the fuck. He quickly cut that off, reset his password, and disconnected his account from the house, reconnecting his parents’ account in place. If his parents wanted to keep the house, it was on them. He didn’t have anything left of personal value, except..

He ran back up the stairs, into his room, and gathered the objects he used for his guitar. It was an acoustic guitar he had named Clementine, and not even Wilbur knew he had it. It was cherry red, and made a beautiful sound. He was actually good at playing, too. He gathered the guitar and its upkeep supplies, and his music folder where he had been composing songs.

He ran back down the stairs, now that he had everything, and set his guitar (which was now in its case along with his guitar stuff, and turned towards the fridge, grabbing several water bottles and stuffing them in his backpack, and sliding his laptop in his PC suitcase.

He grabbed his keys, his items, and since he didn’t have a car, he’d carry all of this by hand. He hoisted his backpack onto his back, strapped his guitar case to his suitcase, and dragged that outside, taking note of the decently warm sunny afternoon. As a last minute decision, he grabbed an umbrella, because, well, it rains a lot in Britain. 

After locking the door behind him for good measure, he grabbed his phone checking its notifications and the time.

**15:32**

\--------

WilburSoot: Tommy? are you ready?

WilburSoot: Tommy?

_ Missed call from WilburSoot _

_ Missed call from WilburSoot _

_ Missed call from WilburSoot _

WilburSoot: Tommy, you’re scaring me, please call

Tommy set his discord status to invisible.

Ph1LzA: tommy, please call wilbur, he’s freaking out

_ Missed call from Ph1LzA _

Ph1LzA: tommy please

Technoblade: hey tommy

Technoblade: they sent me to check up on you

Technoblade: sayin i might get a response out of you

Technoblade: tommy?

Technoblade: alright, stay safe

Tubbo: tommy? D:

Tubbo: tommy im scared

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

_ Missed call from Tubbo _

Tubbo: tommy pekase respond

Tommy set his phone to silent, not bothering to check the messages as he tucked his phone into his pocket, shutting it off, and picking a direction to wander in. He’d wander, make it to a park or hotel or something, and find a place to hunker down for the night. He was grateful he was a famous twitch streamer, which left him quite a bit of money. He hoped he wouldn’t get recognised in public, though he doubted it, especially since he was wearing a hat and jacket, as well as dragging around a backpack and suitcase.

He wandered into a park, a few kilometers from home, and sat down on a bench to have a snack. He opened his bag, and grabbed a sandwich he had put in there earlier. He unwrapped it, and bit into it. It was a damn good sandwich, too. He finished it quickly and drank some of his water. He rested for a bit before getting up, and picking a direction opposite of where he came from. He looked like an unassuming tourist, and that was what he wanted in the first place.

He came across the train station, and managed to buy a ticket and catch the next train, barely. He looked at the line, and decided he’d get off at the Brighton stop.

TommyInnit was going to Brighton, completely unprompted.


	2. I must confess, this mess was not intended

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brighton, England, 20XX. A young man walks into the station, and makes a few decisions, and calls someone rather.. unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear archive of our own user FuckCramorant, spite is a great motivator, and i was so full of spite that your comment made me flip this entire story on it's head, simply because i wanted to spite you. thank you.

The train pulled into the station, and at that point, it had been several hours since Tommy had last looked at his phone. He shouldered out of the crowd and into a nearby park, choosing to sit on a nearby park bench, to catch a breath. He considered his options for Brighton. He could find a train to Southampton, and use the airport there, but where he would go is a big question, or..

Or, he could ask one of his friends if they’d take him in. He had to make a decision soon, or else his phone would die, and he doesn’t remember the addresses of his friends off the top of his head. He could call Wilbur, but he was afraid of what the man would think, especially since they were so close, what if he turned away? Phil was too far north and Tubbo was probably away, and Techno was in an entire other continent, and while he did have money he didn’t think Techno would let him stay with him.

His mind raced. Who could he call? Niki was in Germany, and he didn’t speak German, and Jack lived who knows where, and Dream was in America, and-  _ wait _ .

Dream and Tommy were both friends with a man who slept for inhuman amounts of hours, a British one who lived in Brighton, where Tommy currently was. Tommy also knew his address. Tommy decided that if George turned him away, he’d try Wilbur.

God, what was he thinking. It wasn’t unlike him to do something crazy, though, so he went onto Discord, searching through his friends list, hoping to see George’s icon online (while also ignoring several dms from his other friends. He knew he shouldn’t but his phone’s running low). To his surprise and utmost relief, it was listed as online. Tommy slid into George’s dms in the most unlike Tommy way ever. Usually he’d shout and swear but he didn’t want to get turned away in the one time he needed it most, so he decided that today he’d show manners. Shifting positions on the bench, and taking note of the cool night air and his suitcase and guitar case next to him, he pressed “Message”.

**19:40**

\------------

TommyInnit: george are you streaming

George: tommy?

TommyInnit: yeah big man its me. im in a bit of a pickle rn. can you help?

George: not to be rude, but how can i help?

TommyInnit: well im in brighton right now and my phones about to die, can you come pick me up? ill explain when my ohones not on 7%

George: send location

TommyInnit: [20XX_13031943.38.png]

George: omw

\------------

Turning off his phone, Tommy hoped that George was on his way, and trusted that he’d show up. George was pretty noticeable, being a bit short with dark brown hair and almost black eyes, so it shouldn’t be too hard to spot him.

Tommy zoned out, and came back into reality when he noticed a car pull up to the park, and someone get out of the driver’s side, and come over in his general direction. He picked his head up and squinted, hoping to make out the details. They came closer, and Tommy registered it as George.

George approached him, and Tommy muttered something, a

“You really came.”

“Yeah. Let’s get your stuff, and I’d like an explanation on why you’re alone in Brighton at 7 in the evening.”

Tommy only nodded and picked up his guitar case, and George went over to his suitcase, picking it up with relative ease and setting it down with relative ease. George motioned for him to follow him to his car, and Tommy followed.

They arrived at the car, which was quite a modest one, and Tommy and George put his things in the boot of the car. George got in from the left side, the driver’s side, and Tommy took the passenger’s on the right. They pulled onto the road, presumably in the direction of George’s house, and Tommy was prepared to explain what happened,

“So,” George started. “What happened?” His tone was softer and not hard and sarcastic as it sometimes could be.

“Well, uh, the short story is that i got kicked out, and the long story is-”

He took a deep breath, and George listened.

“It started when my parents came home- they’re never home, you know? I was glad that they were- being lonely isn’t pogchamp- and they had found out I’d forgotten to pay a bill, cause I was caught up in buying groceries and taking care of the house, I had forgotten to pay a minor bill. They, well, my parents, make me pay the bills since I make money, which kind of sounds weird to me, but okay. Dad blew up in my face, and Mom said something that I don’t remember, and next thing I know I raised my voice, and my dad just, well, blows up at me. He screams at me, some shit like ‘No son of mine is disobedient or forgetful’ or something, and then I try and defend myself, and I end up getting kicked out. I packed what I could, which is my PC setup, and some extra things, and I had to ghost all of my friends because my phone could’ve died, and I picked a train, headed to Brighton, and now I’m here.”

George was silent for a minute, seemingly trying to decide how to word his response. Thoughtful, Tommy thought, positively.

“That’s- That’s horrible, Tommy. You shouldn’t have had to go through all of that. I have another question though, why’d you call me and not Wilbur?”

“Well, sometimes Wil can be a bit overbearing, and for some reason I just, didn’t want to.”

“Ah, okay. We’re almost to my flat, by the way, I’ll set up the guest for you, and you can help yourself to anything in the fridge or cabinets.”

“Thank you, George. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome, Tommy.”

George said his words with a bit of happiness in them, and Tommy smiled and looked out the window. He didn’t notice time pass, or the surroundings change before they had stopped in George’s driveway.

“Tommy, we’re here.”

“Ok.”

Tommy opened the door, and sort of followed George to the boot (it’s a car, damnit, it’s not  _ long _ .), and grabbed his belongings. George shut the boot, and Tommy followed George to the door, George minorly fumbling with the keys, and at last, unlocking the flat.

Tommy stumbled in after George, with the older closing the door after him, and Tommy somehow walking over to the couch, and setting down what was left of his belongings on said couch. Tommy sat down, and was immediately greeted with a cat.

“Well, hello, cat.”

The cat sat on his lap, and stayed there as he pet it. George had disappeared off to the guest bedroom, presumably to clean it out for Tommy, and Tommy couldn’t be more grateful. He’d give the man a hug, but knew that he was iffy with contact, so Tommy would give George a hug on George’s own terms. Tommy wasn’t really one for affection, either, so it worked out.

Eventually, George came out of the guest bedroom, and motioned for Tommy to get up, and he was about to not to, but the cat got off him, allowing him to get up and walk into the guest bedroom.

It was relatively empty, which wasn’t unusual, with a large desk in a corner and a queen sized bed nestled up in another corner. The bed had blankets and pillows, which Tommy was secretly grateful for, and a few decorations.

“This is- thank you again, George.”

“I’m glad you like it, you’re welcome.”

“Can I- can I hug you? I know you’re not too affectionate, but-”

“Yeah, you can.”

George held his arms open, slightly awkwardly, and Tommy allowed himself to embrace the older man. 

For the first time in a while, Tommy felt safe.

However, the moment didn’t get to last super long as both men realized that sleep existed. They both detached from one another, and Tommy went into the living room to pick up his things, and brought them into the guest room, which- well, kinda became Tommy’s room, though he wasn’t so sure. Tommy elected to unpack in the morning, because he was tired, and he plugged in his phone, which laid at 2%. He also kicked off his shoes and took off his coat and hoodie, not wanting to sleep in either. He stuck his head out into the hallway, to see George heading into his room, and Tommy said a “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Tommy.”

Tommy closed the door and crawled under the covers, the scent of laundry detergent filling his nose, and he promptly passed the fuck out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ggggjjkl thanks

**Author's Note:**

> leaving comments and kudos is heavily appreciated!! please tell me your thoughts :)
> 
> also, sorry for not updating pretty much anything, i've been busy


End file.
